


Hazard Pay

by thecarlysutra



Series: Storm Universe [6]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: 1990s, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, Humiliation, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Canon, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Stress Relief, Verbal Humiliation, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: Maverick has a stressful day coming up at work, and Ice helps him deal with his nerves. For Pink_and_Velvet, who requested Maverick topping Ice with consensual bondage, spanking, dirty talk, and humiliation.





	Hazard Pay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pink_and_Velvet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/gifts).



  
There was an impending inspection of the new TOPGUN installation in Fallon, which meant Maverick had to work late making sure all Ts were crossed and Is dotted. Instead of fucking off and leaving him to his, quote, “administrative bullshit,” Ice went out for about half an hour and came back with takeout hibachi and a six pack of the shitty, domestic beer Maverick favored, and he stayed out of the way while Maverick worked, sitting with his feet up on Maverick’s desk and snacking on edamame, which Maverick didn’t like, anyway.

Once everything inside was in order, they took the takeout to the hangar. It was late, and they may very well have been the only two at NAWDC by this time; the hangar was empty, unusually still and quiet, and they ate their cold hibachi and drank Maverick’s beer, sitting on the concrete floor and looking at the jets. 

“Classrooms all in order?” Maverick asked. 

“Yes,” Ice said slowly. “I told you I’d take care of it, and I did.”

“I just don’t want—”

“It’s okay to be nervous about this stuff, Mav.”

Maverick huffed. Ice was right, and he didn’t like it.

Then he spied something out of the corner of his eye, and a slow grin spread over his face.

“You could help with that, you know,” he said.

Ice looked at him, frowning. “With what?”

“My nerves,” Maverick purred. “You wanna help me relax, don’t you?”

“You want a blowjob in the hangar?” Ice asked dully. “Not very original, even for you, Mav.”

“I’m about to get _very_ original, Iceman,” Maverick said. “Come here.”

Maverick stood, and gave Ice a hand up. Maverick led him over to the back wall of the hangar, where some industrial shelving was bolted to the ground. It held all sorts of tools and greases and parts needed to keep the planes in working order, and it also, Maverick had just noticed, held some industrial strength tie down straps. You know, the kind that could take 15,000 pounds of breaking pressure and not fray a thread. Maverick selected a short length, and he crooked a finger at Ice, the universal signal for _get your cute ass over here_.

Ice came. He glanced at the strap in Maverick’s hands.

“You think some light bondage is _very original_ , Maverick?”

Maverick grinned. “Maybe not. But it’ll be fun.”

“Who’s getting tied up in this scenario?”

“You are, Iceman. With your permission, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” Ice studied Maverick and his grin, and then the immovable shelving and the unbreakable strap. 

“Okay,” he said finally. “You remember how a safe word works, right?”

“I stop what I’m doing completely, no questions asked.”

“Yeah. It’s _Verona_ , by the way.”

“One day you’re going to explain that to me,” Maverick said.

Ice grinned. “Yeah. One day. Maybe.”

Maverick led Ice over to the shelving. He pulled over a nearby ladder, climbed up a few rungs, and then stretched Ice’s arms over his head. Maverick took his time tying Ice’s hands around the big pole supporting the shelving, figuring out how to work the cinch and the clasp to make the straps tight enough around Ice’s wrists to bind him securely, but not tight enough to cut off blood supply. Ice watched patiently, stood still, until Maverick stood back to examine his handiwork. Ice had his back to him, facing the shelving, and his arms were stretched above his head and bound to the shelving with the industrial strength straps. No matter how hard he pulled, he could neither escape his bonds nor move the shelving.

“Doing okay?” Maverick asked.

“Yeah,” Ice said. “Not too tight, I can breathe okay—all good.”

“Good,” Maverick said, and came close again, pressing himself up against Ice’s back. Just the sight of Ice bound up and submissive was enough to get him hard, and he thrust his erection against Ice’s ass, just to let him know what he was dealing with. Ice breathed out a harsh breath, but didn’t squirm.

“You look so pretty all trussed up like that, Tommy,” Maverick said.

Ice whipped his head around to look at him, eyes flashing. “Don’t call me that.”

Maverick laughed. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Ice smiled coldly. “I’ll stop playing your little game.”

He turned away, faced front again, satisfied that he’d had the last word on that. Well, he was half right. Maverick wouldn’t call him that again, but Ice absolutely did not have the upper hand, here.

“You’re such a brat,” Maverick said slowly. He ran his palms down Ice’s ribs, his hips. Reached around him to unbuckle his belt. “I think you could use a spanking.”

Ice’s breathing hitched, and it was all Maverick could do not to laugh. He left Ice’s belt undone, the front of his pants open, and ran his palm over Ice’s ass. Ice tensed, and Maverick drew his arm back and delivered a sharp smack to the curve of Ice’s ass. Ice jerked, pulling against the restraints, and he yelped a little, probably more out of surprise than anything.

“You remember your safeword?” Maverick asked.

“Yes,” Ice said softly.

“You gonna use it?”

Ice hesitated. “No,” he said finally. 

Maverick pushed Ice’s pants and his underwear to the floor, where they pooled around Ice’s ankles. There was a little blush on Ice’s bare ass where Maverick had smacked him, and Maverick liked it, so he hit him again in the same place—and then again, two, three, four times, until it was a healthy pink. Ice whined, but didn’t struggle, and Maverick craned his neck a bit to look at his face. His eyes were squeezed closed, and he was taking in short breaths through parted lips. He was also getting hard, Maverick noticed.

“You like getting spanked, Ice?” he asked.

“I—I don’t know,” he panted.

“Been spanked before?”

“Not like this.” Pause. “But I’ve thought about it. With you.”

Maverick’s brow went up. Interesting. That was fucking interesting. He rubbed his palm over Ice’s ass, feeling the intense heat at the spot where he’d smacked him over and over.

“You want it to hurt?” Maverick asked.

Ice moaned. “I—Mav—”

“Come on, man. Answer me.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, I want it to hurt.”

Maverick slapped his bare ass as hard as he could. He could feel the impact vibrate up his arm, and Ice choked out a moan. Maverick hit him again, again, striking up a slow, even tempo and putting some muscle behind every hit. He liked the way Ice shook when Maverick’s hand connected with his ass, and he liked the little noises—breathy half-moans—that came out of his mouth. He liked the way Ice’s flesh was heating up, and the way his thighs trembled. He liked watching Ice strung up, bound and helpless, and taking the pain Maverick was making him take. He liked that Ice wanted it.

“You like this, Ice?” he asked, a little surprised by the gravely tone in his own voice. “You like being spanked like a naughty little boy?”

Ice whined, and for the first time since Maverick landed the first smack, he pulled against the restraints. “Don’t—”

“Answer me,” Maverick said. “Come on.”

“Yes,” Ice said, and he sounded a lot worked up and a little surprised. “Yes, I like it.”

Maverick rubbed Ice's sore ass, and Ice tossed his head a little. His hands were balled into fists, the straps biting into his wrists. 

“I like that you like it,” Maverick said. “You’re so … God, you’re so perfect sometimes, Ice, so I like that you like this. It’s messy, and it’s … it’s a little slutty.” 

He pressed in close, enjoying the way Ice shivered when he pressed against his punished ass, and murmured against his ear, “You may have everyone else fooled, Kazansky—ice cold fucking perfect—but not me. You’re just a needy little slut who likes to be spanked and likes to be fucked, aren’t you?”

“Shit,” Ice breathed. He was flushed dark, and his pupils were huge. He licked his lips, probably without thinking about it, but the slow pass of his tongue over those plush lips went straight to Maverick’s dick. He twitched. He was so close to Ice, all pressed up against him, that Ice could probably feel it, too.

Ice smiled, glanced back. Dammit, he’d definitely felt that. “Feels like you’re _really_ enjoying this, Mitchell. Maybe you’re a little slutty, too, huh?”

Maverick felt himself blush. Ice laughed.

“We’re well-matched, I guess,” he said.

Maverick relaxed. He leaned around him, pressing him into the shelving, to kiss his mouth. Maverick palmed Ice’s ass, ran a fingertip lightly down the crease.

“You wanna be slutty together, Ice?”

“I’d love to. Do you have something?”

Maverick had begun carrying condoms and packets of lube in his wallet. He grinned. “You bet I do. Be prepared: that’s my motto.”

Ice’s eyes went heavenward. “What the fuck, Maverick? That’s the Boy Scout motto.”

Maverick didn’t waste any energy on a retort; he slipped a greased finger up into Ice, and Ice shut up. Maverick moved his finger inside him, stretching and teasing him, and then he added a second finger, and Ice groaned, and he pushed hard against the pressure, fucking himself on Maverick’s fingers.

“Greedy,” Maverick said.

“Maybe you should’ve been prepared for that,” Ice gasped, and Maverick slapped the part of his thigh right under his ass, which had consistently brought a big reaction out of Ice when he’d spanked it before.

Ice grimaced, showing his teeth. “Don’t spank me when you’re fucking me.”

“Why not?”

“It’s different. Just don’t.” 

“Roger that,” Maverick said. “Hold still.” 

He removed his fingers, and angled his cock against Ice’s hole. Ice was still for him, and Maverick pushed his cock into that tight ring of muscle, enveloping him, squeezing him, and they both groaned. For a moment, they stood there together, not moving, pressed together, locked together. Then Maverick began to move inside him, strong strokes, and Ice moaned and he pulled at the restraints.

“Touch me,” he said. “Maverick, I can’t—”

“Maybe you should have been prepared for that,” Maverick parroted. 

Ice growled, and he pulled at the restraints for a moment, but then he resigned himself to his situation, and he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the shelving as Maverick fucked him. That was it. Ice bound and just taking what Maverick gave him—it was so fucking sexy, and Maverick came hard, his vision flashing like he’d taken a punch to the nose. He stayed buried inside Ice for a long moment, until his vision went back to normal and he could breathe without feeling like he was going to pass out, and then he cleaned them both up with his handkerchief, then decided to stop being such a dick. He went around to Ice’s front, gave him a kiss, and then sank to his knees, taking Ice’s cock in his mouth. Ice sighed in a pleased kind of way, and thrust in, and soon Maverick was swallowing him down.

Maverick pulled Ice’s pants up, redid his fly and his belt. He dragged the ladder back in place, wasted one last look at Ice in his restraints. Post-orgasm, he was loose limbed and agreeable, his expression soft. His hands were still bound above his head, and he leaned against the shelving lazily.

“Goddamn, you look good like this,” Maverick said.

Ice blushed, and he smiled a little. Maverick climbed a few rungs up the ladder and released the clasp on the straps binding Ice to the shelving. He threw the straps back on the heap with the others, and watched Ice stretching his shoulders, massaging some of the ache out of his wrists.

Maverick stuffed his soiled handkerchief in the bag with the takeout trash, and he threw the whole thing away as they left the hangar. He placed his hand on the small of Ice’s back as they walked through the dark hallways to the parking lot.

“So,” Ice said, “did that help? With your nerves?”

Maverick felt like a new man. And maybe ten years younger. He laughed.

“You know what, Iceman, I believe it did.”

Ice smiled. “Good. Hey, boss. You think I just earned some hazard pay?”

Maverick frowned. “I’m not allowed to spank you when we’re having sex. Can I spank you right now, for that?” 

Ice grinned. “Sure you can, Mav. If you can catch me.”

And he ran off ahead, his footsteps and his laughter echoing off the walls. Maverick sighed. Smiled. And followed.  



End file.
